


every melody is timeless

by anonymice



Series: loving you is easy [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, badly written plotless fluff is BACK BABY, now with 130 percent more self indulgent nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 03:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14583777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymice/pseuds/anonymice
Summary: "It’s like they’re back at the bench, just the two of them in their own little bubble. Time slows down."Daichi and Suga yearn to close the gap between friends and lovers (and Daichi's family tag along for the ride).





	every melody is timeless

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! There's a few inspirations for this fic but I've left those in the end notes.
> 
> This fic is what I'm labelling a 'spiritual prequel' to a fic a wrote a year ago, [the best kind of influence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9505295), which I've made part of this series. That is, it could exist in the same timeline and I have drawn deliberate parallels between this fic and that one, but because it was written earlier, it doesn't feature major parts of this fic like Daichi's family, so in that sense it's not a 'true' prequel. 
> 
> I want to give a massive shout out to the lovely lavendrsblue on twitter for proofreading and lending their helpful insight to make this flow better! Thank you!
> 
> Enjoy!

In the bleary-eyed moments of morning, Daichi wakes up to the chill of winter and a very numb arm. 

He quickly discovers the culprit. His little brother's head is buried into his arm, borrowing a fair portion of his duvet for good measure. The cold air attacks Daichi’s body and when he sighs, he half-expects to see his breath billow out of his mouth. Beside him, Kaze slumbers. 

On his skin, he can feel the warmth of a hand, searching for comfort from nightmares too big for a small body to handle. There’s also the unmistakable sensation of drool and mixed with the feeling that his arm is going to fall off soon, Daichi decides it’s time to get up. With a kiss to his forehead and a carefully practiced extraction of his arm, Daichi leaves his brother to dream a little while longer. 

Somehow, he manages to drag himself downstairs. The smell of his father’s cooking beckons him and he gladly follows his nose. 

“Morning,” Daichi greets his father who rewards his effort of not falling down the stairs with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. He wolfs it down in no time at all, washing up his plates and pouring out Kaze’s favourite sugary dinosaur-shaped cereal. It reminds him of Tsukishima’s dinosaur keyring he’d caught a glimpse of the other day. No doubt a present from Yamaguchi, from the way Tsukishima had caressed it with a softness Daichi couldn’t believe he was capable of expressing. 

Midway through pouring the milk, Daichi wrinkles his nose. The words ‘caressed’ and ‘Tsukishima’ are way too weird to appear together in the same sentence. But then Suga pointed out how they never go home without each other, how Tsukishima always hands him food from the vending machine, how Tsukishima’s face lightens just a fraction when Yamaguchi is subbed onto the court. It’s incredible, the way Suga notices things like this. More than anything, Daichi remembers the fondness in Suga’s expression. 

The pitter-patter of feet down the stairs stops him from dwelling too much on his kouhai’s relationships (especially after Suga had revealed he’d caught the two making out in the clubroom). Besides, he thinks, as his phone buzzes in his back pocket, he’s (sort of) in no position to judge. 

Kaze rubs at his eyes as he bumbles into the kitchen, sliding into Daichi’s seat. He yawns at the bowl of cereal in front of him, mumbling a soft, ‘thank you’ as he digs in to his breakfast. 

Daichi gives him a quick ruffle of his hair, making his adorable bed head even worse. Behind him, the radio plays a fast-paced song with choppy lyrics. It’s the kind that Suga would probably listen to on repeat, a happy tune that would make him smile. With that mental image, Daichi can’t help but smile too.

His hand moves to the pocket of his jacket, ready to reply-

“Are you meeting up with Sugawara today?” 

His father’s face is neutral, but as always when it comes to Suga, there’s that humorous tone in his voice. His family have always welcomed Suga but sometimes, Daichi feels he’s stumbled upon an inside joke of which he is the perpetual subject. His mother in particular is merciless, and his fifteen (and-a-half as Moeko insists) year old sister is unfortunately following suit. (But of course, out of all the people close to him, it’s Suga who’s the biggest offender of them all).

He hasn’t really said anything about Suga, about this strange, exciting something between them, out loud. Yet, he’s at least seventy percent sure that Suga feels that same something and with the way his father is raising his eyebrow, one hundred percent sure his family suspects it too. 

Daichi nods in lieu of a reply, not trusting himself to open his mouth. His mind flashes back to the incident where he’d choked on nothing when his sister had casually remarked ‘Suga-san said he wants to start yoga classes’ at dinner. He is determined not to embarrass himself again. 

“Tell him he’s welcome to pop by tomorrow. Though I’m sure you don’t need me to remind you.”

Daichi’s ears start to redden as he stubbornly pulls out his phone, pretending not to have heard. It’s an impossible feat in a quiet kitchen where his father’s chuckles echo off the walls. 

_suga: hey sleepyhead, you coming or not?_

_daichi: FYI, I’m awake actually_ , Daichi shoots back, _see you in ten mins?_

Suga’s reply is instant.

_suga: no worries dopeypants, see you at the usual place!_

Daichi slips his phone in his pocket, wearing a special, secret smile, just for himself. 

***

They take a slow walk to the park, Kaze grasping Daichi’s hand tightly. It’s not so busy in the mornings, but his little brother still sticks close to his side. 

It doesn’t take him long to reach their spot. It’s a bench, tucked away underneath the trees. A private place, just for the two - or rather, three - of them.

Sure enough, Suga is there, swinging his legs back and forth. There’s a rhythm to his movements, the heels of his feet hitting the air in time with the music pulsing out of his headphones. (They are pink, because Suga doesn’t believe in that ‘pink for girls’ nonsense and Daichi, who bought them for him, wholeheartedly agrees). The song is loud and raw, carrying an energy that much like Suga’s smile, courses through Daichi’s body. 

“What are you listening to?” 

It’s the first thing he asks now. Somewhere along the line, they shifted from a casual ‘hello’ to this. (Daichi briefly thinks about the bigger, bolder possibilities he’d like to shift to). 

Suga’s reply is straightforward. “Neotrance.”

Daichi blinks. “...I can’t tell if you’re messing with me.”

Suga laughs, loud and soft at the same time, like chimes in the wind. “It’s a genre, not a song.”

In response, Daichi shrugs, defeated so willingly by Suga’s charming smile and a music taste he doesn't quite understand. He accepts his fate, takes his seat on the bench, and pats the space beside him for Kaze. His little brother climbs up with wobbly strength, holding onto Daichi’s leg for support.

“Today’s your lucky day,” Daichi informs him, turning to secure Kaze on to the bench. “No jog right now because this one,” placing a gentle hand on Kaze’s back, “has volleyball club in a bit.” Kaze’s head perks up at the mention of the sport and Daichi rubs his back fondly, pulling him closer to shield him from the cold. 

There’s no hard and fast rule with their jogging sessions. On more than a few occasions, Suga has dragged them both to the local dessert place as Daichi half-heartedly complained about how counterproductive it was, all while ordering his regular vanilla cream cake and a glass of water on the side. Sure, Daichi prefers the consistency of exercise and the burn of adrenaline in his system, but any excuse to hang out with Suga is a fine alternative for warming up his body in the winter. 

He barely finishes his sentence before Suga clasps his palms together with a loud smack in mock prayer. “Thank you for this blessing, my new year’s wish has finally been answered, no longer will I have to suffer, I am finally free from Daichi’s torture-”

“Oi!” Daichi chides, amused as Suga continues to spout out his anti-jogging spiel. By the end of it, Suga is struggling to stay coherent, peppering his words with laughter too.

It’s quiet after that, a moment covered in a blanket of silence. Daichi evaluates the situation and decides this is a good time to try and spark a bit of that something. He is still cautious of Kaze, so he stretches out his arms behind both of them, balancing them atop the wooden rail, a safe distance away for his brother’s comfort but close enough for Suga’s attention. 

Even with his head thrown back and eyes to the sky, Suga’s senses are sharp. As if attuned to Daichi’s presence, he turns and glances at the arm that does a perfectly poor job of hiding its intentions. All Daichi can do is offer a sheepish grin, one that manages to brighten Suga’s cheeks and offer one in return. 

“Kaze slept on my arm,” Daichi explains with an exaggerated stretch that fools neither of them. He expects Suga to call him out or comment sarcastically or, in the best-case scenario, grin a little wider until those dimples appear. 

Instead, Suga goes silent, casting a mindful glance at Kaze.

“It’s understandable. Your biceps are big.”

He phrases it like a fact. A sentence that could easily - mercifully - fly over a five-year-old’s head. But Daichi knows better. The way Suga is looking at him through his eyelashes, a smirk so sharp it cuts Daichi to his core. There’s absolutely no way his face isn’t as pink as Suga’s headphones right now. 

A multitude of responses start to form on his tongue, some just as deliciously wicked as Suga’s but the responsible part of his brain reminds him there is a child next to him. 

Daichi’s brain tries to scramble together a sentence. “You’ll damage your ears if you listen to that too loud,” is what he comes up with. He nods towards the headphones resting around Suga’s slender neck. A few long seconds later, his brain catches up and he braces himself for the teasing that inevitably follows.

Suga snorts. “I’m sorry we can’t all be old men like you, Daichi-sensei.” Daichi rolls his eyes, almost missing the way Suga inches forward ever so slightly. “Isn’t that right, Kaze-chan? If he ever lectures you at home, you tell me and I’ll sort him out.” Suga flexes his arm, and the irresponsible part of Daichi’s brain reminds him while he might not go to the gym (or as Suga calls them ‘torture chambers’) as often as Daichi does, Suga is still damn fit. 

He barely has time to prepare before he feels that familiar punch thwack his side. 

“I’m being bullied,” Daichi grunts, and when he looks at Kaze he is met with the sight of a small hand covering a not-so-small smile. 

“Stop turning him against me,” Daichi says, giving Suga a shove back. He barely puts any weight behind it but still, Suga flops dramatically to the side. Like the swing of a pendulum, he sways back toward Daichi, dropping directly into his lap. 

Well, Daichi thinks as his brain tries not to short-circuit for an entirely different reason. 

He fails.

“It’s my turn to use you as a pillow.” Suga throws Daichi a wink. 

“Suga…” Daichi groans. It’s supposed to be a warning but it comes out more like a wheeze. Any other time, any other place, maybe alone together in his room and _god_ , Daichi cuts off that thought with all the willpower he can muster, prays to the same deity that Suga can’t feel the lurch in his stomach and the heat that starts to simmer. Daichi’s spark of something has grown into a wildfire.

“You’re so easily affected,” Suga teases, with a wiggle of his eyebrows and body.

“You’re uninvited to Kaze’s birthday this weekend,” Daichi manages to retort, mentally high-fiving himself for holding it together.

“Boo!” Suga pulls funny faces, sticking out his tongue and screwing up his eyes. “Besides, it’s Kaze’s birthday, not yours, spoilsport. Kaze-chan, can I come to your party?” 

Daichi watches his brother nod shyly, looking up at him eagerly to confirm. He pretends to mull it over, using it as a cover to indulge himself, reaching out to swipe away at the stray silver hairs framing those eyes that twinkle up at him.

“I suppose you can come for an hour or so.” His words come out soft rather than sarcastic. They generally do around Suga.

In contrast, Suga’s arms shoot up victoriously, narrowly missing his face. “Yes! I’m staying for cake though,” he insists, and even though he nearly got a black eye, Daichi doesn’t mind at all.

In fact, it’s only when Suga starts making faces again, imitating Daichi’s so-called ‘grumpy face’ that he finally starts to protest.

“I do not look like that.” Daichi folds his arms defensively. His expression is a close copy to the one Suga is demonstrating, but the softness in his brow washes away any hint of seriousness. Even Kaze is beaming, all his little teeth on show as Suga continues his antics. 

Daichi’s chest fills with gratitude. With the exception of Moeko, they aren’t a particularly talkative family, and Kaze in particular takes a while to warm to up to people - if he chooses to do so at all. But with Suga, the Sawamura's are always at ease. 

There’s a tug on his trousers that grounds him back to the reality that as much he wants to stay here, content with Suga, he needs to get going.

“Get off, sleepyhead.” Daichi shakes Suga lightly who is now pretending to snore noisily as giggles escape Kaze’s mouth. “Don’t wanna be late for Kaze’s volleyball practice.”

“No, we don’t,” Suga agrees, wriggling out of Daichi’s lap and springing off the bench. How Suga can be so chirpy in the cold hours of early morning is beyond Daichi. Another trait of many he admires about this boy.

Naturally, Kaze’s hand slides into his own. Daichi gives it a little squeeze. 

But Kaze doesn’t move.

The little boy stands there silent, facing away from Daichi. The keen, eager boy from just a minute ago has seemingly disappeared.

“What’s wrong, bud?” Daichi asks, voice full of concern. Perhaps he took it too far with Suga. Maybe they were too loud, too overwhelming. He should’ve put in more effort to tone it down. 

It’s only when he hears Suga’s soft gasp, feels the pull on his own hand that he starts to understand what’s happening.

Kaze’s free hand is outstretched.

Daichi’s gaze flies straight to Suga who meets it just as quick. He’s just as surprised. 

_Can I?_ is the question written all over Suga’s face.

 _Of course_ , he nods in return. 

It takes a moment to register on Suga’s face, as if he can’t quite believe Daichi would say yes. Daichi finds that absurd. He’d trust Suga with his life.

He watches as Suga’s face lights up with excitement, an unwavering assurance that Kaze is in good hands.

“Come on then, Kaze-chan,” Suga says, keeping his palm open for Kaze to make the first move. Slowly, his little brother takes hold of it, wrapping it around Suga’s pinky and fourth finger. Daichi’s heart swells with happiness that overflows and starts to prickle around his eyes. 

The three of them walk together, hand in hand, and Daichi has never felt so warm. 

***

It’s not like Suga to be late. 

Sure, he’s not consistently fifteen-minutes early to everything like Daichi, but for as long as Daichi has known him, his general rule is usually to arrive earlier than later. He runs his thumb over the phone screen a few times, staring at the text he sent ten minutes ago. The lack of an answer sets him on edge.

At the very least, the music is a familiar distraction. The dessert parlour had been more than accommodating, supplying a private room upstairs away from prying eyes and loud noise. In more ways than one, it’s perfect for Kaze. Although his brother is small, his stomach is impossibly large. A Sawamura trait for sure, except for a sweet tooth that could rival Suga’s. (Maybe the music isn’t so effective after all, or maybe, more likely, his mind always finds its way back to Suga).

The presents are starting to stack up by the window, an assortment of shapes and colours that block the view. Not that it would matter much - Daichi is in the middle, right next to the birthday boy with a matching party hat, the seat next to him waiting to be filled. Even so, he glances toward the window with determination, willing himself to see through the gifts and catch that reassuring glimpse of pink and silver.

“Lighten up.” His sister appears beside him without warning, another habit she seems to delight in tormenting Daichi’s heart with. She gives him a reassuring nudge that, judging by the bruise he can feel forming, she definitely learnt from Suga. “He wouldn’t leave you hanging like that,” she says, softer but still as impactful, and Daichi is grateful for her words. (Though he picks up on how she doesn’t even need to say his name, or the way she emphasises the you in her sentence. Daichi marvels at her sharpness, emotional at the thought of his sister growing up so quick and clever).

“Sorry I’m late! My phone ran out of battery and the bus driver was slower than a snail but I’m here!” 

The voice alone relaxes him. Daichi’s face lightens with relief and looks beside him, watching as his brother’s expression mirrors his own. It seems the sentiment is shared by the rest of the room. Everyone welcomes Suga as he takes the time to greet them, with an adorably red nose and that gorgeous beam that has the childish part of Daichi yearning for the torturously long seconds to pass by, until Suga looks at him and no-one else, draws out that special, secret smile, the one that Daichi shares only with him.

He has yet to find someone immune to Suga’s charm. If Daichi has the power to inspire a room with his words, then Suga is has the power to brighten a room with his presence. Daichi cherishes that about him, basking in the thought of how lucky he is to have someone like that in his life, someone like that sitting in the seat next to him, knees pressing gently against his own.

The next hour goes by in a flurry of ice cream and waffles and plenty of much-needed glasses of water to brace Daichi for the next round of oncoming tooth and stomach-aches. Though it’s completely worth it for the two very happy customers on either side of him. The wobbly smile on Kaze’s face sends a wave of happiness through Daichi all over again, thankful that Suga suggested a dessert-themed birthday party in the first place. 

Some time later, with settled stomachs and knowing smiles (seriously, Daichi thinks, utterly bewildered, how does everyone know?) from the multitude of staff Suga seems to know on a first-name basis, they make their way over for the fun and games. 

Even with the staff on hand, naturally, Daichi takes the lead. He makes sure the kids aren’t too boisterous and for those that are, ensures that brightly-coloured plasters and comforting shoulder touches are in plentiful supply. Suga coordinates the teams and keeps score, offering a helping hand for arms that can’t reach or legs that waddle instead of run. Together, they keep the atmosphere calm and momentum steady. 

Daichi loses count of how many times he’s felt indebted to Suga today. (Especially when he sees Suga, who always gives everyone a fair chance, favour Kaze that little bit more). 

The adults drift off to the sidelines, content to let someone else take charge for a change. For the most part, Daichi and Suga do a good job of letting the kids enjoy themselves, stepping in only when needed. Every now and then, dedicated as he is to supervision, Daichi allows himself a glance at Suga and can’t quite quell his excitement when he finds him pink-cheeked, glancing back too. 

It becomes a game of their own. Daichi is aware of Suga’s prolonged gazes, like when he squats to comfort a child or ruffle his brother’s hair in encouragement. It makes his stomach drop and hair stand on end. It makes him want Suga to feel that way too. 

And Sawamura Daichi is not one to back down from a challenge.

***

The second half of Kaze’s party - Daichi’s contribution to the plans - takes place at the gym. It’s convenient, a short walk away from the dessert parlour (a fact he and Suga can attest to), but most importantly, it makes his brother happy.

He’s leaning against the wall with Suga next to him, not taking charge for once. (As much as he’d love to play against Suga again, he’s on strict orders from a certain mouthy teenage sister who had whispered he and Suga-san really need to “tone it down, ‘cause, like, I love you guys, but god, you kept flirting with him through the net, it’s embarrassing mmmf- get your hand off me, I’m right!”).

Daichi listens as Suga mimics an official commentary on the games, cheering loudly when anyone scores, cheering the loudest for Kaze.

Even off the court, it strikes Daichi how content he feels. Everything fades when he glances at Suga. There’s no rambunctious children, no deadlines at the back of him mind, no one to set an example for. Just the two of them, tucked away in the corner of their world.

The sound of the whistle breaks his trance and the sound of Suga’s voice lures him back in.

“You should do that as a job.” Suga tells him, punctuating the air with a fork full of cake. 

“How many slices of that have you had now?” Daichi asks. Astonishingly, there had been some pieces of cake leftover. One piece had been enough for his poor stomach but Suga had more than happy to oblige in transporting and consuming a large portion of the rest. 

“Three,” Suga says happily as he takes another bite, closing his eyes and making a sound that has Daichi’s stomach churning for an entirely different reason. The way Suga cracks an eye open, almost like a reverse wink, tells him it’s deliberate. God, he needs to step up his game. 

“Do what?” he asks. (He tells himself he’s being strategic, biding his time, and in no way attempting to divert attention from whichever body part decides to betray him this time).

“Coach!” Suga says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Daichi wonders how long that thought has been lingering in his brain.

“But kids? I don’t know...It’s different with kids. Our team is older.”

“Okay, first of all, I heard Kageyama last week trying to beat Hinata in _breathing exercises_ so don’t give them that much credit.”

Daichi snorts. Typical. 

“Second, you’re a damn good captain - with my help, of course.” 

“Sure,” Daichi nods, teasing with an undercurrent of truth. 

“Stop doing that, I’m not finished,” Suga tells him, poking Daichi in on the shoulder with the handle of his fork.

“Doing what? Affirming that my vice-captain is incomparable to any other and that I’m extremely fortunate to have him?” 

“I meant interrupting!” Suga pouts adorably, cheeks turning the same shade of pink as the frosting on his cake. “You know, I was going to make this all about you, but if you want to make it all about me, go ahead.” 

“Okay, okay,” Daichi chuckles. “Carry on.”

“Rude, you’re not supposed to give in that easily,” Suga pretends to scold. 

Daichi shrugs, sincere and wholehearted. “You’re easy to give in to.”

Suga’s eyebrows shoot up, his words falling out just as quick. “And I thought I was supposed to be the flirty one in this relationship.”

It’s like they’re back at the bench, just the two of them in their own little bubble. Time slows down. All he can see is Suga turn so endearingly red, those pink lips widen to let out a stuttered laugh. It seems he’s not the only the one who didn’t expect that sentence. 

The gathering is already rather small, mostly family and Kaze’s closest friends, but here with Suga, flushed and beautiful in front of him, Daichi has never felt anything more intimate. 

***

At long last, it’s time for everyone to go home. Goody bags and goodbyes are exchanged, the endless supply of cake is packed away and a short car journey later, the Sawamuras and one Sugawara are all packed together in the living room.

Daichi sits with Suga by the window leading to the back garden, keeping an eye on his siblings - or rather, Kaze - playing outside. The sugar seems to have granted an ever present energy that fuels his brother’s small frame. Even though the cold stiffens his movement, it’s clear that Kaze’s skills have improved. He’s less clumsy and more focused, and Daichi feels immeasurably proud. 

“Reminds me of a certain first year,” Suga says with a wistful sigh. Daichi thinks he’ll never quite get used to his uncanny ability to read his mind. “Are you gonna cry again? It’s okay, you know,” he says in that tone Daichi recognises as half-teasing and half-serious. 

Nevertheless, Daichi adamantly protests that it’s just the cold making his eyes water, burrowing his face deeper into his scarf. Suga laughs in response and tugs gently on the fabric. 

For the briefest moment, Daichi feels Suga’s finger graze his lips. His skin tingles at the contact and goosebumps he can’t blame on the cold sweep up his arms. A heady rush of adrenaline spikes through his body, that same invigorating feeling he gets on the court. 

He watches as Suga’s eyes widen and body freeze, as if he’s a camera ready to take a snapshot of this single, precious moment. 

The finger hasn’t moved. 

Something in Daichi ignites, the spark perhaps, or his desire to rise to the challenge. Except, really, it’s not a challenge at all. It’s something that’s been a long time coming, something he’s ninety-nine percent certain Suga’s been longing for too. 

“You...you have a piece of cake here,” Daichi says, fumbling with his words. It’s a flimsy excuse to cup Suga’s cheek, but logic and reason don’t matter in this slice of time with this boy next to him. All he cares about is the softness of Suga’s skin under his palm, the special, secret smile growing on his face. 

“Oh, Daichi,” Suga breathes out, barely more than a whisper, “you’re so…”

“So…” Daichi murmurs, not worrying about the end of the sentence because Suga is here, eyelashes fluttering, moving away his finger and replacing it with lips as soft as the ones in his dreams. 

Distantly, he registers the sounds of whistling and cheers, the flash of an actual camera, but it does nothing to deter him from Suga’s arms. Daichi permits himself to be selfish, closing his eyes and letting his senses fill with Suga. 

He has all the proof he needs.

***

“What are you listening to?”

“Nightcore,” comes the enthusiastic reply, along with a kiss on his cheek that lingers long enough to make him blush. (There’s more than enough time later, in the privacy of his room, to get his own back). 

Daichi accepts the earphone from Suga’s palm, accompanied with his habitual shrug and bemused smile. The cord hovers above the boy between them, bolder and bigger, but still more than eager enough to hold both their hands. They swing their arms to and fro, letting the chill of the spring air and cherry blossoms settle around them. 

Waiting for them at the parlour is Moeko, eyeing the waitress in a way that makes Daichi restrain himself from composing a lecture in his mind. (“Leave her alone,” Suga whispers with a nudge, “you look at me like that all the time”. Really, he thinks, as they share a cheeky grin and a slice of cake, they’re both just as bad with each other).

Moeko’s gaze darts back to Daichi, informing him in a squeaky rush of syllables that mum and dad have gone for a walk. They’ll be back in a minute but still, Daichi pulls out his wallet willingly and makes sure there’s enough left if they want an extra round. Besides, he’s been diligent with his job search, online and off. He should be hearing back soon. 

The conversation flows freely, from Suga sharing weird memes with Moeko to the ruthless teasing he and Suga team up to give her when the waitress checks up on them. Daichi’s phone flashes with a text from Moeko, a declaration of her intent to confess. Suga rests his head on his shoulder, reading it with a smirk, and says, “Ah, Moe-chan, you’re so fiesty. Your brother could learn a few tips from you.” (Kaze is still innocently oblivious, but observes the interaction nonetheless, craning his neck over the tower of pancakes on his plate to figure out why his big sister is living up to the meaning of her name).

Underneath the table, Daichi reaches for Suga’s free hand and finds it waiting. He gives it a squeeze, feels the thumb stroke back tenderly in response. Suga catches his eye, the fondness on his face matching his own, and the world around them stills. The booth is cosy, hidden away in the corner, and here with his family around him, Daichi has never felt so much love.

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic was inspired by three main things:
> 
> 1) I really liked Suga's love for music in the wonderful fic [Like a Song ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13496566/chapters/30951934)by Ellessey and as someone who loves listening to (electronic) music, I wanted to incorporate that here with Suga.  
> 2) I've been thinking about images like [this](https://static.tumblr.com/e8c67b1f3f53d42d7853cd35ab2beedd/lvvzzsj/Gcjnc5i6t/tumblr_static_57gyll2kmpwks4w8kooso84cc.png) which, to me, really give this sense of a moment in time being captured - kind of like when you're having a really good time with friends and sort of become hyper aware of how happy you are in that moment? I wanted to write something with that kind of theme for daisuga.  
> 3) Furudate's illustration of [Daichi with siblings](https://78.media.tumblr.com/68c8b10483b2026cd6b13708de288b37/tumblr_p1xntm26gM1u2jkixo1_1280.jpg) \- as soon as I saw this I knew I had to write at least one thing with them in some way. (Although his sister looks quite young here, I made her older in this fic). 
> 
> I also have a [playlist](https://soundcloud.com/lemonysnicketing/sets/wip/s-0cCvs) of songs I listened to while writing this if anyone's interested! (The title of the fic is based on Clean Bandit's Symphony but of course, I'm referring to the edit that's at the top of this playlist LMAO). 
> 
> Also, if anyone gets the neotrance reference you will receive a MILLION heart emojis from me.
> 
> #savedaichi2k18
> 
> Feel free to yell with me about daisuga on [twitter](https://twitter.com/valorsimplicity) / [tumblr](http://valourandsimplicity.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
